<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Bonds Broken and Mended by happyeverafter72</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27841786">Bonds Broken and Mended</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/happyeverafter72/pseuds/happyeverafter72'>happyeverafter72</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Our Love is a Blossom [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Deadnaming but without the actual deadname, Established Relationship, M/M, Parent-Child Relationship, Trans Sherlock Holmes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 21:07:27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,168</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27841786</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/happyeverafter72/pseuds/happyeverafter72</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Holmes's parents have different views about their youngest son.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Sherlock Holmes/John Watson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Our Love is a Blossom [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2023496</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>62</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Bonds Broken and Mended</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>September 1884</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>It is not unusual for Holmes and me to arrive home to find visitors waiting for us. There was, however, one </span>
  <span>particular occasion</span>
  <span> on which the identity of the visitor was very surprising.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>We entered the sitting room to see a lady on the settee. Holmes gasped and stopped in his tracks.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Mother,” he exclaimed. “What on earth are you doing here?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She got up and came towards us. “Hello, my dear. Your father and I are in town for a few days and I wanted to see you.” She took his hands and looked him over. “Have you been taking care of yourself?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He rolled his eyes teasingly. “Mother, I live with a doctor.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She turned to me. “You must be Dr Watson. It’s wonderful to finally meet you. Sherlock is never terribly forthcoming about you in his letters.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>I laughed. “No, I imagine not. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs Holmes.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Holmes led his mother back to the settee and I sat in my armchair.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Does Father know you’ve come to see me?” Holmes asked, his eyes cast downwards.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She sighed. “He has business to attend to.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He nodded sadly. “His antipathy towards me continues, then.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, Sherlock.” She laid a hand on his arm.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“It does not matter,” he said. “I would rather not see him than be subjected to his views.” He shook himself, then continued in a brighter tone. “You didn’t come here to talk about that. Tell me your news.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>They talked happily for two hours before Holmes’s mother noticed the time and said that she ought to go. She requested that he walk with her in the park for a short while and he was happy to oblige. While he went to prepare himself for the outing, I helped her on with her coat.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You love him, don’t you?” she said in a quiet voice, eyeing </span>
  <span>me shrewdly</span>
  <span>.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I - er...” I stuttered, blushing furiously.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She laughed. “It’s alright, Dr Watson. I just want him to be happy, and you clearly make him happy.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“In that case, Mrs Holmes, I love him very much indeed,” I said with relief.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>At that point, Holmes came back out of his bedroom. “Are you ready to go, Mother?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, I’m ready.” She turned back to me. “It was lovely to meet you.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Likewise,” I replied, shaking her hand.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Holmes ushered her through the door. “Could you wait for me for a moment? I shan’t be long.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Once she had gone, he took my hand and drew me into a kiss. I was surprised, but responded eagerly, my arms wrapping around his back. We were both breathless when we pulled away.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I heard you,” he murmured. “I love you very much.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m pleased to hear it,” I replied with a smile. I kissed him again, softly, then said, “Enjoy your walk.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He grinned. “I won’t be long, my love.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>After one last, quick kiss, he left.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The following morning, a letter arrived. Looking at the direction on the envelope, Holmes put it down, frowning in distaste.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I can tell you precisely who that is from without having to open it,” he said.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Who?” I asked, full of curiosity.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“My father. He persists in refusing to use my name.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Shall you open it?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He sighed resignedly. “I suppose I ought to see what he has to say.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He opened the letter and read it in silence. Then, with a derisive snort, he passed it over to me.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>It was strange to read the name at the top of the page. I was unable to connect it to Holmes, and I feel sure he would be gratified to know how alien it seemed to me. Proceeding, I read the contents of the letter.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I understand that your mother saw you yesterday. As I suppose it would be somewhat remiss of me not to see you too, I propose that we should meet. I shall be meeting with Mycroft at 11 o’clock at the Diogenes Club. If you choose to come, I shall expect you to behave in an appropriate manner.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Sincerely,</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Siger Holmes</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>When I had finished reading, I looked up at Holmes.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course, you realise what he means by ‘an appropriate manner’, don’t you?” he said.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>I nodded gravely. “I think I do. Do you want to go?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>want</span>
  </em>
  <span> to,” he replied. “But I think I </span>
  <em>
    <span>should</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I will not give him reason to think me weak.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>I reached for his hand. “Darling, no one could think you weak. I’ll go with you if you want me to.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He smiled slightly. “That’s very kind of you. Thank you.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>We prepared ourselves and headed for the Diogenes for 11. In the seclusion of our Hansom cab, I took Holmes’s hand. He was trembling with nervous anticipation. I gave his hand a squeeze, silently communicating my support. He squeezed back slightly, then laced our fingers together. Neither of us let go until we arrived outside the club.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>I could feel nerves coming off Holmes in waves as we made our way through the silent corridors. When we came to the Strangers Room, we paused outside the doors. I looked at him questioningly. He gave me a nod, then opened the door.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Holmes’s father was an imposing man. Although similar in size to Mycroft, his presence seemed larger somehow. When we entered the room, he turned towards us. It was clear from his expression that he was angered by his youngest son’s appearance. He addressed Sherlock with his old name.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>There was an awkward silence.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Mycroft coughed. “Sherlock, I believe Father was talking to you.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Sherlock feigned surprise. “I do apologise, Father. If you required a response, perhaps you should have used my name.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>I had to fight hard to prevent myself from laughing. Mycroft spluttered, while their father simply gaped.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>In the pause, Sherlock began speaking again. “Allow me to introduce my friend and colleague, Dr Watson. I understand that Mother sometimes reads his pieces in the Strand.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>His father composed himself with an effort, evidently seeing, as I had, that Sherlock was not to be swayed. “Yes, she likes to find out what you have been doing. You are obviously still living in the way that you have chosen.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Sherlock nodded. “I am indeed, Father. I live by my wits, as my true self.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>They talked on for a time, the father making jibes and Sherlock responding with grace and composure. I have seldom felt so proud of him as I did then.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>When at last we took our leave, Holmes shook hands with his father in a cordial manner. We made our way home swiftly and spent a pleasant afternoon.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>That night, I held my darling a little tighter than usual. He melted into my embrace, sighing contentedly.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I have realised something, John,” he murmured.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s that, my love?” I asked.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“That I am stronger than my father,” he replied.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>I kissed his temple. “You’re the strongest man I know.”</span>
  
</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>